


Willingness

by SquaryQ



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, F/M, Reincarnation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-24
Updated: 2016-05-24
Packaged: 2018-06-10 11:03:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6953896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SquaryQ/pseuds/SquaryQ
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Nii-sama, this is Kisa-chan! Kisa-chan, this is my nii-sama, Seto!”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Willingness

**Author's Note:**

> I don't even know why I did this - I was suddenly overcome with Blueshipping feels so wrote some sort of weird older Mokuba oneshot which I'm sharing with you guys for some reason.   
> Enjoy!  
> Sorry Seto is a tad OOC

Seto had never understood his younger brother’s immense willingness to take part in social events – as soon as the dark haired boy had reached the age of fifteen he was beyond eager to take his older brother’s place at social events with other corporate kings. The raven haired kid had grown into his name, now looking as powerful as his older brother had in his own high school days.

Another thing that struck Seto as rather bizarre about Mokuba was that he was always befriending the underdog, a position that he himself avoided at all costs. The now seventeen year old Kaiba had made an expansive group of friends, frequently inviting them to join him at social events outside of Domino City, throwing the money he makes through the company around to include as many people as possible. His heart is big.

The older Kaiba shakes his head, recalling the extensive conversations Mokuba had been having with him about his dearest friend, a first year girl called Kisa-chan that he met back in middle school. They had been rather close, even in the awkward year when he was in high school and she was stuck in middle school.

He had never pried much into his brother’s friendships, but this Kisa-chan person struck him as an anomaly, hearing that name be released from his younger brother’s lips seemed natural, like he was meant to meet her. As much as he attempted to avoid acknowledging his trip to Ancient Egypt, it had awoken a sudden understanding of fate and destiny which he embraced and resented simultaneously.

He stretches his sluggish limbs as he stands up from his work station, on some lucky days, the rich man would get the luxury of working from home. Its way into the evening now, and he ought to replenish his caffeine supply as well as actually eat dinner. The smell of whatever Mokuba is making wafts upstairs to greet him as he shuffles downstairs to busy himself with making coffee.

The kitchen is the first door on the left once you have decended the stairs, but when Seto turns into the room, he sees a second person in there – a young girl dressed in a chocolate brown pleated skirt and a caramel coloured shirt. She stands at the dishwasher, unloading it and handing plates to Mokuba.

Seto cannot help but feel the slightest bit embarrassed by the fact that he just stumbled upon his younger brother while he is entertaining, but continues on his way to the coffee maker and starts to busy himself.

Mokuba clears his throat, a smirk crossing his lips as he waves his older brother’s steaming coffee cup before him.

“I just made you a coffee nii-sama!” Mokuba exclaims.

“Thank you, Mokuba,” Seto says as he sips the scolding coffee, feeling refreshed as his taste-buds are scorched.

“Nii-sama, this is Kisa-chan! Kisa-chan, this is my nii-sama, Seto!” Mokuba’s aging had never truly struck Seto until that moment, when he realised his younger brother was the same height as he is – that his raven black locks are hanging in a neat and tidy ponytail that ends at the small of his back. He wears small thin rectangular glasses with thin frames – even in his school uniform he now shares an aura of superiority and financial prosperity. Seto could not help but be proud that he now shares that trait with his younger brother.

“Hello. I’m Kisa-chan, it’s nice to finally meet you Seto-sama,” the girl says, drawing Seto’s attention to her.

He tries to remain composed but thoughts are soaring through the rich man’s head, memories of things Mokuba had said to him:

_“I met this girl at school today, Nii-sama! She looks kinda like a chubby version of that girl you paint.”_

_“Shut up, Mokuba.”_

_“Kisa-chan is super cool! You need to meet her someday, Nii-sama!”_

_“Someday, yes, but not now, Mokuba.”_

_“Nii-sama, would it be okay if we host Kisa-chan’s birthday party?”_

_“You can host it but I’ll be working.”_

_“Nii-sama, we should invite Kisa-chan to the Gala that Pegasus is hosting in Paris!”_

_“We only have two tickets to that Gala, you two can go but use protection, Mokuba.”_

_“Nii-sama! I don’t wanna graduate from middle school because that means Kisa-chan will be all on her own again and I don’t want her to get bullied again!”_

_“If she does get bullied, she’ll be a stronger person. That’s what happened to you.”_

_“Nii-sama, I went to visit Kisa-chan at the middle school today – she’s grown a lot taller and she’s not chubby anymore!”_

_“Good for her.”_

_“Yay! Nii-sama! I just got the best surprise!”_

_“It’s only the first day of school, Mokuba.”_

_“Yes! But Kisa-chan called me ‘senpai’!”_

_“Dear God.”_

Seto tries not to shudder – could his brother really be dating this girl?

Mokuba had been right, absolutely right – this Kisa-chan looks exactly like the young woman with snowy white hair and fair skin that Seto would paint after that trip to Egypt – exquisite paintings in oils on huge canvasses decorate the “closet” within his office; which is really a shrine to the woman who he now believes evoked his fascination and obsession with the Blue Eyes White Dragon.

“Hello, Kisa-san.” Seto nods, drinking more of his coffee before bowing back at her.

Mokuba rolls his eyes at the formality his brother emits – he would have expected such from the stunned Kisa-chan but not Seto freaking Kaiba – could this be why he never attends formal events, why he resents attending expensive social flings? Or is this what their adoptive father did to him – make him frigid and competitive and icy – hard to approach and be fluid in conversation with? Is that what Gozaburo Kaiba made him?

Mokuba sighs at his older brother’s antics, before smiling at his machine of a sibling.

“Kisa-chan and I were just finishing dinner – want some?”

“I would not want to intrude.”

“It’s no intrusion, Seto-sama! Pardon MY intrusion!”

Mokuba shakes his head, “Kisa-chan, you’re not intruding, I invited you, after all.”

“Sorry Moku-senpai!”

Seto shakes his head, declining the invitation whilst stifling a laugh at the fact that his younger brother actively responds to being called ‘Moku-senpai’.

The brunet bows to his younger brother and his guest before finishing his coffee and then heading back upstairs. He walks into his office but moves straight towards his “closet”.

This room is indeed spacious, especially compared to the size of his office by comparison – it is at least three times larger in the closet than the office.

Seto kneels on the carpeted floor and looks around him, surrounded by paintings of his part incarnation’s love – Kisara the Dragon Girl. The woman he had saved from slave traders; the reason his mother was killed and his village was burned to the ground. The woman who used her pure spirit monster to protect him. The woman who took a fatal blow to the chest to protect him.

Was this his punishment? His punishment for neglecting so much in his life – having to potentially watch his younger brother engage in a relationship with a young potential incarnation of the dragon girl, despite her eagerness to serve him as the Blue Eyes.

Those eyes are unmistakable – he knew from the second he acknowledged her appearance that this Kisa-chan could easily be just that – Kisara.

He shifts his sitting position, so he is leaning his back against the entrance and holding his knees to his chest – faced by portraits of her in so many different ways – many acknowledging her as being the lovely Blue Eyes White Dragon.

Seto simply stares at the paintings, unwilling to enter his office until he can be sure she has gone.

At eleven pm, he decided his hunger pangs were too great to ignore, having gone for most of the day without food. He creeps downstairs and gasps out when he sees her in the kitchen, fixing herself a mug of hot chocolate.

“Kisa-san, you’re still here?”

“Yes, I am so sorry for the intrusion, Seto-sama but Moku-senpai told me not to disturb you. It’s been raining non-stop since eight so Moku-senpai offered me a room here. I offered to sleep on the sofa. I’m sorry!”

“Why are you sorry? If Mokuba said you can stay he said you can stay. I’m just going to fix myself something to eat and head to bed myself.”

“Oh! Seto-sama, we kept your dinner in the oven on a low heat!” Kisa-chan states. Is she wearing Mokuba’s pajamas? Seto makes a mental note to interrogate his younger brother about his relationship with the pale girl.

She kneels down and opens the oven – producing a bowl of oden. Seto forces himself to hide a grimace at his least favourite food having been left for him to eat for dinner. He nods to the pale girl and takes his food into the dining room. Kisa-chan follows him.

Seto, noticing this, sets his food down and stares at her, brow raised.

“Sorry, Seto-sama. I was just going to ask if you would like some company.”

He shrugs. Taking that as a yes, Kisa-chan sits opposite him at the dining room table.

Seto eats his oden, suffering in silence as Kisa-chan kicks her legs.

“I want to ask you a question.”

The words said startle Seto himself. Why must he speak? Why did he just start a conversation with the girl?

“Absolutely, Seto-sama. Ask away.”

“Is Kisa your full name?”

“No, Seto-sama, but Moku-senpai has always called me Kisa. He said it suits me better than my full name.”

“Which is?”

“Kisara.”

Seto freezes.

White hair, pale skin, blue eyes, curvy figure. This is Kisara. This is Kisara. Mokuba is very much aware of this and pursued friendship with her? Why? What does he gain for evoking his older brother’s misery?

“I read that in Ancient Egyptian times, there was a young woman who was a lot like me, who served under one of Pharaoh Atem’s consorts, Set, and loved him greatly and dearly. In a later chapter there is a translation of Pharaoh Set’s scrolls – he spoke of her often and was forever grateful to her, and loved her dearly. Do you know that story too, Seto-sama?”

“You don’t even know the half of it Kisa…ra-san. He loved her deeply, having saved her from death many times – the young woman was to be sold as an exotic slave to the Pharaoh when Set was a child and he released her. She was ostracised and nearly stoned to death as an adult for her fair complexion and again it was Set who kept her safe. She was put into the custody of the Pharaoh and his court and he kept her from being killed. He saved her life many times as they grew fonder of each other. But when the time came that she failed to use her pure innocent soul to protect him from death, she shielded him with her own form. He never got over it.” Seto says, each word heavier and more exhausting to express than the last.

“I see that you have seen,” Kisa-chan states as she stands up from the table. She takes her hair out of the ponytail she had it tied in that evening – snow white hair hanging past her butt, several strands that were held back in the ponytail fall before her face, a wispy strand cutting across her forehead and face, crossing her cheek and hanging in a curve by her elbow and bust. She looks at him, blinking once or twice before smiling at him.

“How did you handle it, Seto-sama? Do you recognise this?”

Seto sighs, looking at Kisara, a small smile crossing his face, “I drowned my sorrows in money and buried my tears into a pile of freshly minted cash.”

Kisara frowns.

“I recognise you, Kisara. But I can do nothing yet – you are not who you were. You are not the same age as I am. It would be unfair, cruel and painful and socially crude to evoke such strong emotions upon someone who in the eyes of the world does not know enough to devote their self to someone like me.”

“Seto-sama… I’m sorry.”

“Do not be sorry, we have enough time to spare – you will not fall as you did before.”

“Seto-sama…”

“You don’t need to be formal, Kisara.”

‘What am I saying? What am I doing? Who is influencing this? Is it you?’ Seto thinks back to his past incarnation, the man who held her as her soul was sealed in the stone tablet.

“I remember very little, Seto… I found someone who said she would help me – she told me that my memories would return to me if my soul was given back – I could only start to remember you several years ago.”

“When I ripped up Solomon Motou’s Blue Eyes!”

“Indeed. So if you were to rip the other three dragons up, my soul, my heart, my memories would return to me, as yours have.”

“Ishizu unlocked mine…” Seto looks away from Kisara, hearing noise from upstairs.

“Moku-senpai!” Kisara gasps, piling her hair back into a ponytail and sitting back down, attempting to look as if that exchange had not happened.

“I always thought you were crushing on Nii-sama, Kisa-chan!” Mokuba laughs as he bounds down the stairs to fix himself a hot chocolate, “Besides, we’re the Kaiba family, there have been worse scandals to come from our family name than a six year age gap.”

“Shut up, Mokuba.”

“Nii-sama! Look at her! Kisa-chan is that girl from your vision, the girl from the memory world! Don’t even deny it you grouchy old soul!”

Seto flinches at the argument his brother made. He looks from Mokuba to Kisara, watching his brother sling an arm around the shorter girl.

“If all else fails and people ask questions, I’ll take the fall for you guys, Nii-sama.”

“Mokuba…”

“Oh Moku-senpai!” Kisara exclaims, hugging the raven haired upperclassman tightly.

“Seems that Kisa-chan is willing, are you, Nii-sama?”

“Kisara… I have wanted to see you back before me every day since I returned from the memory world. Am I willing? Why wouldn’t I be? As much as I may make an argument, I am willing.”


End file.
